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David's head fucking hurts.
Everything fucking hurts. All of thirty-two years old and his body's complaining like he's sixty and dying of tuberculosis. Busted fuck of a nervous system he's got. It's all he can do to squint at what's in front of him, try to make out what he's seeing in the blurry half-light, pressing a palm forcefully into the socket of his right eye when that doesn't make anything clearer. Like that'll actually work. He presses harder, palm grinding into his cheekbone, feeling the blooming ache in his face cause the other hurts to fade out, just for a bit.
"Hey."
He's jarred out of his misery by a voice, and by Adam's hand on his wrist, gently pulling it away from his face. David sighs, letting the other man do as he wants. He's sat on the ground, legs scrunched up to his chest, the fire a not-so-distant glow to his left. It's quieter, over here, and he doesn't want to be around the others right now, anyway. Doesn't want them to see him like this. Tired and hurting.
He has to be able to hold on to some of his pride, after all.
Adam's crouched on the ground next to him, still gently holding onto his wrist. He looks over at the man's blurry face, trying to make sense of what he's seeing. But the lighting's too bad, and Adam's just barely illuminated by what firelight reaches them.
"'M doing fine." David insists, even though Adam hasn't asked yet, even though he knows Adam won't take that for an answer. He looks away, staring off into the woods as Adam presses David's open hand closed with his own. His shoulder aches, in the spot where he was hooked that never really seems to heal right. He can feel Adam running a thumb over his now-closed fingers, trying to coax him into opening up. Part of him feels like a sulking child.
He just wants a fucking pint and a fistful of painkillers, but God-in-high-Heaven fucking knows he won't get either of those things in this hell-hole.
So he settles for Adam holding his hand, waiting for him to say something, instead.
"You don't need to--" David cuts himself off, pressing his lips together as he searches for what he's trying to say. He doesn't want Adam to see him like this. Weak. Tired. He continues to let Adam hold his hand, and continues avoiding his gaze. "I'm fine. "
"I can go if you want me to." Adam offers, and David still can't bring himself to look over. He stays quiet, chewing at the inside of his mouth instead of looking for words. When he doesn't say anything, Adam begins to let go of his hand and get up from where he's crouched on the forest floor. He's leaving. David's not sure he's relieved about it. He doesn't think he is. He swallows thickly, feeling like his tongue has become glue in his mouth.
"Wait--" His voice strains, as he reaches for Adam, finally looking over at the other man again. "Stay? Please."
Fuck me, David thinks to himself, rather miserably, as Adam sits down cross-legged on the forest floor next to him.
"Of course I can stay." Adam answers, taking David's hand again, lacing their fingers together as David leans against him. Fuck . He's tired, and everything aches like he's been through a ringer of a fight. The light of the campfire flares up, followed by a cacophony of shouts rises as someone throws something large and flammable into the pit. David winces, trying to ignore it, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Do you want to lie down?"
"Mmg," is the noise David makes in response, followed by a reluctant yes . He rubs his free hand across his eyes as Adam shifts so David can lie with his head in his lap. The ground is damp; the chill seeps into his chest and into his joints. He doesn't care. It's good enough. Adam's put his hands on his shoulders, rubbing small circles into his skin.
It's nice. He says as much to the other man.
"You should go easier on yourself." Adam says, looking down at David. "There's no use in wearing yourself out like this."
"Not sure I know how to do anything else." It's half a joke, with the way he says it: glint in his eyes and smirk on his face, but that turns into a wince when Adam's hands press against a muscle too tight for his liking. Adam notices, and sighs as he continues to work his hands over David's shoulders. He does his best to keep the grimace off his face.
"I'm serious." Adam continues, all smart worded and solemn faced. "You can't keep doing this and expect it not to hurt you."
"It's not like -- fuuuck ." The last word comes out in a hiss as Adam presses against that spot on his shoulder, the one knotted and marred by scar tissue. Evidence of being thrown onto a hook one too many times. He can't keep the look of pain off his face. " Fuck, that hurts, Adam."
"Sorry." Adam takes his hands off David's shoulders and moves them to the man's face, running a thumb over his cheek. There's a bruise, still forming over his right eye -- not from earlier. From a trial, when the Huntress had gotten fed up with throwing axes at him, and had decided slamming him head-first into a wall was better . He's still surprised that his entire face isn't one massive bruise, after that. They all made it out fine in the end -- doesn't mean he isn't hurting from it, though. "But I am serious."
"S'Not like there's anyone else to do it." He's grumbling, crossing his arms over his chest like that'll make his point stick any better. Being the meat shield has always been his job, it's what he's been doing since he got here. It's what he'll keep doing until, well… until something stops him. Doesn't matter what it does to him. "It's what I'm here for."
" David. " Adam's being all concerned and sensible, and he just feels guilty for it. Adam shouldn't have to worry about him like this. He presses his lips together again, teeth biting down on the inside of his mouth, looking away as Adam's fingers rub soothing circles over his temples. "You know that's not true."
Adam's lying to him to be nice, he knows, but he can pretend for a moment that it's the truth.
"Who else is supposed to pull off all this shite, then?" It has to be someone. Might as well be him. Things are better off that way. Adam's answer doesn't come immediately; he takes a minute, warm hands still on David's face.
"-- And you're still not wearing the glasses." Is not what he expects the other man to say, the sudden change of subject eliciting a laugh from David.
"Fuck off," he answers, but he can't keep the laughter out of his voice or the grin off his face.
"They're useful , David." Adam insists, even though he's smiling and laughing a little himself. "They let you see things, David."
"I can see fine without them!" He uncrosses his arms, huffing at the other man. He can . He doesn't need help to see. Adam chuckles, and David thinks he can see him rolling his eyes at him. "Not like I'm blind , love."
"And not being able to tell the difference between Meg and the Legion is evidence of that?"
"S'Not my fault she had that stupid mask on." David insists, rolling his eyes back at Adam. No one'll ever let him live that one down, will they? Do something stupid once and no one ever forgets. He reaches a hand up to grasp Adam's wrist, gently pulling it away from his temple and toward his lips. "Turned out fine, didn't it?"
Adam hmms at him as he kisses the man's palm.
"Still." Adam continues, brushing a stray hair out of David's face. "Just because you don't want to admit it, doesn't mean it isn't true."
"You don't have to do that." His answer is quicker than he means it to be, and Adam tilts his head at him. "I'll pull through. You don't have to worry about me."
"Well," Adam starts, and for some reason, some tiny inkling of panic enters his mind. He's not sure what Adam's going to say, or what he wants Adam to say. Maybe this is where he gets fed up with him. Where he decides David's just more trouble than he's worth. Adam wouldn't be the first. He wonders if that'd be better than having him worry.
"Maybe I want to worry about you, David, have you ever thought about that?"
His heart skips a beat.
"Well--" he starts, but Adam cuts him off.
"So long as you keep being reckless and insist on not taking care of yourself, I can keep worrying." Adam pauses, tapping David on the nose. He startles a bit, blinking up at the other man. "So, maybe, if you start taking it a little easier, I'll start worrying less, hm?"
David swallows thickly, looking away for a moment -- towards Adam's hand, still held in his own -- before looking back up to meet Adam's eyes. He's not sure what to say for a moment. It's not like… well, he doesn't want Adam to have to worry about him. He doesn't. He lets the other man's words sink into his mind.
"I'll think about it." David answers, eventually, and Adam gives him a warm smile in return.
"Good."